


Lover, Hunter, Friend and Enemy

by Wrenalynn



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Boys In Love, Drunk Vampire, Look Ma I made a new slash tag, M/M, Mild Sexuality, Shenanigans, fade to black because I am an ace ho who cannot write smut for her life, mild violence, seduction at sword-point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:14:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27750613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrenalynn/pseuds/Wrenalynn
Summary: Vesemir is a young witcher, out on the path, away from his school, and eagerly chronicling his adventures. He wants these stories, these facts, to bring back to his fellow Witchers to help them out in their own fights down the line.How was he to know he'd soon have his first run-in with a higher vampire, and that said vampire would take an extreme interest in him?
Relationships: Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy/Vesemir
Comments: 14
Kudos: 24





	Lover, Hunter, Friend and Enemy

**Author's Note:**

> So.  
> It has come to my attention that there is No Tag for Vesemir/Regis on Ao3 in any way.  
> I have resolved to fix this.  
> Welcome to my brand new Rare-Pair.  
> Thanks and love goes out to @BuffySummers10 and @Skyiah_Raine on twitter for encouraging me. Y'all are loverly. 
> 
> (Title credit goes to @Skyiah_Raine. Thank you, sweetie.)
> 
> Have this nonsense piece of fiction, that will ultimately be followed by a longer and completely off-canon piece as well. 
> 
> Set somewhere in the late 11th century, when Kaer Morhen was still fully functional, Vesemir was a young(ish) Witcher out on the path, and Regis was on a blood-drunk path of self-destruction! :D  
> Info taken sparingly from wiki articles. 
> 
> (Finally finished and moderately edited while mildly shmiffed on rum/eggnog. Be gentle. Be kind.)

~

A slight chilled breeze blew past the little makeshift camp in the woods, a half day’s journey out from the nearest township, as the Witcher sat in quiet contemplation in the fading light of the sunset.

There was still at least a month and a half before the autumn weather took a turn for the nasty and Vesemir felt the need to return to Kaer Morhen... soon. For now, he was happy to laze against a fallen log, a fire burning low nearby, and a sense of accomplishment from ridding Hagge of its latest nasty Monster of the Week. He pulled out his latest journal and his bit of charcoal and began scribbling down the important parts of the fight and a coarse sketch of the ghoul he had fought. What hurt him, improved the outcomes of fights for the rest of his brothers, and he was loath to skip any journaling. He would have plenty of stories to bring back to inspire the latest trainees. 

He smiled and shifted slightly in his spot. The last monster he had come across before he reached Hagge had been a lesser vampire and he was still needing to finish writing his piece on that. It wasn’t often one came across… well, the less intelligent of the vampire species. He knew of the higher classes, but had never crossed paths with one himself. He imagined the opportunity would be… enlightening. 

If he ever had the chance… well, he was unsure what he might do. Question it? Fight it? Gather information once it was dead or still alive? He supposed that rested entirely on whether the vampire in question attempted to kill him immediately or not. The fire sputtered as he put the finishing touches on his ghoul sketch and closed his journal. Seemed like a good enough time to get some rest and resume his travels in the morning. 

Vesemir spread out his bedroll and settled in, ensuring the fire was at a warm coal level and not too bright. The closest monster had been adequately done away with and he felt reasonably safe closing his eyes and actually slipping into a real sleep cycle. 

The fire died down to nearly nothing in the few hours that he had been asleep before his dreams of numbers and sketches were dashed to pieces by the sudden and violent addition of another person to his bedroll. The body went crashing into his and pushed them both violently against the tree trunk Vesemir had settled next to, bringing the latter abruptly to full wakefulness with a wild exclamation of “Gwwaaagh!”. 

The newest addition let out a groan, and then a giggle, and settled into complete silence. They didn’t even move from their spot sprawled across Vesemir as the other man tried to blink himself back to reality and make sense of what had just taken place within his camp. 

There was clearly another person currently sprawled face down, all muscles and hard planes splayed across his own. He prodded a finger into their shoulder as he came more into himself. 

“Who… what?.. Excuse you?!”

Another giggle erupted from the mass spread across his lap and bedroll. 

He frowned down at them and made to move them more firmly off himself. 

“I said... Excuse you! Get off!”

The figure below him rolled away with the shoving and he came nearly face to face with one of the more interesting people he’d met in a while. Pale skin and slightly off-kilter hazel eyes stared back at him with a dumb grin on their face. Clearly whoever this was needed some assistance in finding the nearest settlement. That was the only reason why this person was suddenly in his lap in the middle of gods-damned nowhere. 

“Who in the hells are you?”

Yet another giggle. “Kitty eyes.”

Vesemir took a deep breath in through the nose and glowered down at his lap mate. “Who. Are. You?” He all but growled, reaching not so subtly for his swords.

The other man nuzzled his face into Vesemir’s thigh. The Witcher froze.

“Mmm. You smell delicious.” The man slurred, a hand coming from seemingly nowhere to ghost along the inside of his leg. “A little nighttime nip, hmm? You wouldn’t mind, would you... Pretty Eyes?” 

Two very glazed hazel eyes looked up into his in what he assumed was a flirtatious manner. He wrapped his hand firmly around the wrist attached to wandering fingers and squeezed in warning. “What in the Gods’ names are you on about and Who are you??”

“Emmmhieelll.. Terz...tezzz… Regis.”

“...What?”

“Regis.”

“...Okay…”

“Can I bite you?”

Vesemir shook off the last of the joint haze of confusion and sleepiness and tossed the other man firmly away from him, sliding to grab his swords in the same fluid motion.

Regis lay spread-eagle on the ground where he landed and blinked curiously into the treetops. He grinned wide, displaying two wickedly sharp incisors. 

“You’re a vampire…” Vesemir guessed, breathless out of both being faced with what was clearly a threat, and his own desperate desire to catalogue this entire confrontation. He had never met a vampire before that could easily pass as human. He pointed his silver sword out towards the other and waited.

The vampire chuckled as he rolled his head over to meet the Witcher’s gaze. “Got it in one, Handsome.” There was a mild slur to his words, as if the man was deep in his cups.

“...You’re a drunk vampire.”

Regis hummed in confirmation and rolled onto his stomach, using his elbows and folded hands to hold up his head as he regarded the Witcher in front of him. He may be blood drunk beyond all reason, but he was still able to sharply see the handsome features of the man in front of him. From the Raven black hair going slightly grey at the temples, to the golden cat-slit eyes glaring at him and the adorable pout his frown had twisted his lips into. 

“How many bodies will I find when I head back to the nearest settlement, hmm?” He tried to keep his tone light as he tightened his grip on his sword. How much information could he manage to pull from the creature before him before he inevitably needed to put him down? He needed to get him before the intoxication wore off too much, as he didn’t trust how much stronger it would be once more clear-headed.

“Bodies? Mm...bodies…so warm… pressing up against me. So delicious. Makes me sleepy.”

Vesemir grit his teeth and exhaled slowly. He didn’t want to give himself away as being ready to strike at any moment, but he needed the vampire to be a bit more forthcoming. “No… I mean. How many townsfolk did you drain? How many can you kill in a night? Is that how you got to the state you’re in?”

The vampire, Regis he reminded himself, began giggling once more. “Oh, bodies as in dead people? Oh, pretty boy, what would be the fun in that? The more delicious the person, the more I want them to stay just as they are.” His eyes moved slowly down and then back up again, inspecting Vesemir’s person in a very intimidating, and mildly sexual, manner. “Cannot sip more from an empty cup, my dear. It defeats the purpose. Also tends to sic angry townsfolk on a person, and I advise against that. Most unpleasant.” 

He raised himself up a bit into a sitting position and leaned towards the Witcher in a conspiratorial manner. “And between you and I… dead bodies are positively revolting.”

Vesemir blinked and took a small step backwards. “You mean to tell me… you managed to get yourself this wildly blood drunk without killing anyone?”

The vampire grinned at him, sharp canines on full display. “Tell me, my delectable darling… Have you ever been to an orgy?”

This managed to catch him completely off-guard. A vampire who didn’t wish to kill, who despised the thought of a dead person? His grip on his sword loosened slightly as he glowered down at the vampire before him. His eyes were shining up at him, and his grin was lopsided but full of promise. An orgy? Really?

“I’m not a priest, Vampire, I know what an orgy is.”

The other descended into laughter again and scooted himself yet closer to the Witcher. “Not a priest, hmm? Plenty of experience out on your Witchery path?”

Vesemir did not respond to his provocation, nor did he lower his weapon. Regis edged closer and closer until he was face to face with the tip of the silver blade. He tilted his head back ever so slightly, exposing the long column of his pale throat. 

“Did you know… it is nearly impossible to kill a higher vampire?” Something less than innocent sparkled in his eyes as Vesemir brought the very tip of his sword to his adam’s apple. He swallowed, causing the Witcher’s eyes to track the subtle movement of his throat. “We can be brought low… torn to pieces… but give us a century or two and we’ll be back…”

“Not even fire?” Vesemir’s curiosity was beginning to override his wariness at the stranger’s presence in his camp. If he had truly harmed no one in a permanent manner, and was as nigh immortal as he claimed… then there was the potential for so much more discourse here… and the look in the vampire’s eye was triggering an entirely different response than fight in the Witcher. 

“Well… it would cause damage, surely… but we all eventually regenerate. Even if it takes much more than an average lifetime. Enough for all to have forgotten us... “ Regis raised himself up on his knees as he spoke, causing the sword at his throat to rise to just under his chin and follow him up. The blood he had drunk still thrummed through his veins, causing his head to feel light and airy, and heightening his physical response to the gorgeous man before him. 

“I bleed… as you do… should you wish to test my theory. Although... It would be such a shame to soil our clothes… “ Regis attempted a toothy grin at the other man. “Though that would cause us to simply need to remove said clothes. Not such a… so bad a prospect.. Hmmmm?”

He hummed as he swayed slightly and Vesemir took the opportunity to step slightly closer and tilt the other man’s chin up with the tip of his blade. “You’re awfully mouthy and provoking for a monster at the end of a Witcher’s blade…”

The vampire licked his lips. Vesemir stared and realized he had a different opportunity presenting itself to him. He stepped even closer.

“The monster and the monster hunter… come to show me how foolish I am for invading your camp?” The blood haze receded to the back of his mind and left the image before him seared into his memory. However this scene played out, he resolved to remember it clearly. 

Taking the invitation for exactly what it was, Vesemir dropped the blade to his side and surged forward, grabbing Regis by the chin and pulling him in to meet his lips. The kiss was sudden and hungry and drove the breath from both of them. Regis took the lead almost immediately and the fact that he had recently had a sword to his tender flesh faded as he bore the Witcher down into the dirt. 

~

A bird sung just off in the distance, bringing Vesemir into blinking alertness. The sun was already well into the sky, marking mid-morning, and dawn was long past. He stretched, feeling delightfully sore in a number of places. Mild puncture wounds were already healing over on his collarbone, and his pants were.... somewhere. 

The camp was quiet and empty, no one but Vesemir and the local wildlife. A small scrap of paper lay crumpled by his bedroll. 

He smoothed it out and realized it had the name of a local keep, scratched onto the page with charcoal remnants from the fire. He smirked slightly to himself and went looking for his personal journal. 

There were many interesting facts he felt needed to be put to paper for his own pack, should they ever have their own encounters with a higher vampire… and then there were some factoids he wanted to write down for just himself.

~

**Author's Note:**

> So. Yes. I love you, lol.  
> Feel free to fill in the sexy times with whatever nonsense you like.  
> I am a sex-adverse ace person who struggles with smut writing so I leave it to your capable imaginations. Whatever did the two of them get up to??
> 
> I am actually already writing another Regis/Ves piece that is non-canon compliant and will have multiple chapters.  
> No timeline on that yet, lol.
> 
> Thank you, dears. <3

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [I'm going to record this, Regis](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29819799) by [Artemisia Todd (Illunis)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illunis/pseuds/Artemisia%20Todd)




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